Fleeting Moments
by Desiree Sparx
Summary: Nabu's final moments, his one love before him, all that happens and all the regrets. His final words, his final breath...death has come for him, and death waits for no man. One-shot.


Eyes. Dying eyes. Life leaving, trailing away an dispersing. Eyes are said to be the window to one's soul, perhaps there is truth in that. Perhaps not. But eyes, when filled with energy, are bright and joyous, reflecting the wonders in the world. But eyes can lose all this, when these eyes have had their time, when they close their shutters.

Tears fall, cascading down the girl's and onto his clothes. Her voice is hoarse, like sandpaper, from crying his name and pleading with the universe to save him.

But it's too late, and they all know it. His eyes, his sparkling eyes. They shine in the fading light, love still pouring out towards the girl whom he has loved for so long.

Too long.

He should've walked away whilst he could, spared them all so much pain.

The pain. It's unbearable.

"Please, Nabu, don't give up!" the girl cries, shaking him as though it will revive him.

He feels so light suddenly, as though he's a cloud, floating up high above and soaring in the wind, free at last. But he doesn't want to let go, not yet. He wants to hold onto this moment, spend as much time as possible with the crying girl by his side. The girl who shakes with fear and remorse.

"Please don't leave me," she begs, clutching his hand tightly, holding him as close as is possible. Her eyes bore into his, refusing to give in, refusing to acknowledge the obvious truth.

He lifts his hand, gently wipes away her tears with his thumb, smiling at her as he feels that floating feeling again. She grips his hand, hard.

"Nabu," she croaks. She knows it, she knows it's too late. She sees it in his face, the way his mouth becomes firm, his eyes falling in on themselves. But there is still something there. It is his love, the love he gives constantly to her. The love that will never die.

"I'll never leave you, Layla." He's weak, the effort alone to speak taking the little strength he has. He tries to sit up, to embrace her, but his limbs have turned to air. She sobs louder, harder. She grasps onto him, a meaning coming across though not by words, Don't leave, Nabu. Keep fighting. Don't give into death, you're stronger than this. Please, Nabu, wake up!

He opens his mouth, his words tumbling out as they grapple for importance, "Wherever you'll be, any time, in any world, I'll always be with you."

They both know it now, clear as day, crisp as the coolness that settles around them. Death has come, and death waits for no man.

The boy looks to his right and there, shrouded in faint mist, is the outline of a robe-cloaked man, hood pulled low. The figure taps repeatedly at his wrist.

Time.

The boy is out of time.

"These eyes, Layla, must not cry," he insists firmly, fighting the urge to give in already and holding out. Holding out for his love, his girl, his everything. But she'll go soon, or more precisely, he will. And they may never see one another again, not in this lifetime.

"I love you." With one final breath, he closes his eyes. His body stills, his spirit stirring restlessly as it leaves him, death welcoming it with open arms and a wide smile.

"Come," death whispers, "come with me. It's over now, it's all over."

The boy turns briefly, surveying the scene below him as he drifts up ever so slowly. A girl, his girl, crying and pounding the ground. A light appears; the black gift. The boy feels himself being pulled downwards by an invisible force, and death stops in mid-air, surprised.

But just as soon as it starts, it ends, for a man with red hair and an evil smile appears, capturing the light. He drops it to a flower.

The girl cries out in fury, but the red-haired monster has disappeared. She wails and cries. The others follow her lead. The boy hates to watch. He faces death, who smiles sympathetically.

"Be strong, Layla," the boy whispered into the night air. "And remember, I love you, no matter what."

"Time to go," death whispers, and the boy, though reluctantly, follows death up, up into the clouds and beyond, past the pearly clouds. He steals one last glance below to see his girl turn her back on her friends and leave with the war fairies.

"Layla," he murmurs. "Don't do this." But she can't hear him, it's too late. It's all too late. He trembles as a solitary tears spills down his cheek. "I love you."


End file.
